Confronting Calamity
by can't.save.this.sinking.ship
Summary: Sequel to Coming Clean. Harry and Draco have come out of the closet as a couple. Now, they must face the challenges of the real world. Will they make it? Harry/Draco, Blaise/Seamus, Ron/Hermione. Non-canon.
1. Prologue

**AN:** Whew. It's been a long few months. School has never been busier, and it's been difficult for me to even get five minutes to myself, let alone enough time to start another story. It is, however, Holiday Break, and so I've had several days to bum out and do nothing (which translates to: I've been writing nonstop for hours on end.) So, I decided it was time to start the sequel to Coming Clean. This story will focus a lot on the developing relationships of Harry and Draco, as well as Blaise and Seamus, and will be impacted greatly by the events of the war.

Just to be noted now, THIS DOES NOT FOLLOW THE STORYLINE OF THE BOOKS. It is set in Hogwarts with the same characters, but I am coming up with my own storyline in terms of the war and how it will end. I just don't want any comments saying that I'm not following canon-- because I'm telling you now that it definitely will not be following J.K. Rowling's wonderful work.

Also, this is not a stand alone, but if there are some readers who simply do not feel like reading the getting-together fic, Coming Clean, you might be okay with just reading this one. You won't understand some of the references (and if you do get confused, feel free to PM me and I'll explain it the best I can) but I think you can get the gist. Of course I'd love for you to read Coming Clean instead, but feel free to do whichever option you wish. :)

Other than that, I think I'm ready to shut up now...I hope you guys enjoy the prologue, and the first chapter, which I've already written and am putting up right after this. Glad to be back, and can't wait to hear your feedback!

**Pairings:** Harry/Draco, Blaise/Seamus, Ron/Hermione, Sirius/Remus

**Warnings:** none

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, sadly. :(

* * *

One month after the second image of Harry and Draco hit the news stands, Voldemort called a meeting with every Death Eater but Draco in attendance. Most had expected the Dark Lord to be furious with the news, but he seemed oddly calm; almost contemplative. The anticipation of his reaction was nearly palpable.

"Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter," he finally drawled, fingertips ghosting over the moving picture of the two boys kissing on the front page of the paper. "One of my own– a traitor?"

Severus Snape, from where he was bowed beside several other Death Eaters, spoke up, soft and hesitant. "He is young, my lord. His hormones rule his behavior. Potter means nothing to him."

"Did I ask for your opinion, Severus?" Voldemort asked lowly.

"No, sir. Forgive my rudeness."

The Dark Lord nodded and made no move to punish him, merely continued with his business. "I've seen this image before, or at least a very similar one, just before young Malfoy's initiation," he mused. "I was given the same excuse, which I pardoned if only because I assumed he'd move past the phase and would continue his bloodline– especially after we got rid of his disease during the latter festivities. Flint, did you not believe we'd succeeded?"

"I was sure he'd been cured," Siles spoke up, baring his teeth in a disturbing grin.

"It seems we were mistaken," Voldemort said, a bit darkly. "Perhaps Draco feels more for my nemesis than he's letting on. I– "

"I can assure you, my Lord, it is all lust–

"Severus, you will not interrupt me again," Voldemort said sharply. "_Crucio!_"

Snape stayed quiet for the twenty seconds the spell was on, and only let out a single whimper when it was taken off and he was left with the agony of its after effects.

"Now, regardless of whether it is lust or something more, we must consider how to go about dealing with the situation," the Dark Lord continued. "With Lucius in Azkaban, and with the whole of the Slytherin house against Draco, it seems Severus is our only insider capable of influencing his behavior."

Snape, catching his breath, choked out, "Anything you need me to do, lord, and I will."

Voldemort thought for a long moment, then finally said, "I need some time to come to a decision on how I wish to use you as well as their relationship to my advantage. Mark my words, though: Draco Malfoy will not get in the way of my destroying Harry Potter. If he wishes to stay alive, he'd do well to understand that."

Severus nodded. "I will let him know."

"Good," Voldemort murmured. He looked out at his followers– they were well in the hundreds, now– and bared a devious, evil grin. "Fear not, fellow defenders of the pureblood race," he began, voice growing in volume and passion, "For Harry Potter will soon no longer be an obstacle, and in the very near future we will be beginning our reign of the wizarding world."

The graveyard erupted in resounding applause. Severus Snape clapped along with the rest, but his eyes were dark with worry.

The climax of the war was coming fast, and the Light side had to be ready.

They could not lose.


	2. The Villain Returns

**AN:** Soo, the boys are all in this chapter. There's a lot of interaction, which I hope will make people happy. It also introduces some of the issues the couples are facing (Draco's memories, Seamus' fear of coming out) which will play out throughout the story. I'm sort of trying to take a different approach with this story as a whole in that I'm going to attempt to plan out the plotline, at least more than what I was doing before (which was, writing it chapter by chapter with whatever inspiration happened to hit me.) I hope it'll make the storyline more consistent and will make me less stressed out. I hope it works out!

Anyway, hope you enjoy this. It's a bit shorter than usual, but has some good moments, which I hope make up for length.

**Pairings:** Harry/Draco, Blaise/Seamus, Ron/Hermione

**Warnings:** non-graphic lime, kissing, cursing

**Disclaimer:** Not mine.

----------------

The sound of skin slapping against skin was making Draco nauseous.

He lay still and tense against the silk sheets, fingers clenching around the soft fabric as he fought to gain control over his stomach. Harry, behind him, was panting in pleasure. The sounds were making Draco's insides roil.

He'd always been a quiet lover, though, so luckily, Harry didn't notice his lack of enthusiasm. He thrust on, oblivious and in ecstasy, the sounds growing and growing in volume until it was, thankfully, over.

Harry pulled away and said regretfully, "Sorry I can't finish you off, love. I have to go to Quidditch practice."

Draco swallowed thickly, feeling like his throat was twice as large as it should've been. "Okay," he managed, hoarsely, relieved that Harry wouldn't see the fact that he wasn't aroused in the slightest– and hadn't been for the past twenty minutes. In fact, he was quite the opposite; he felt absolutely disgusted. As Harry hurried to get himself dressed, Draco tried to quell the nausea and stop the incessant trembling.

This was how sex between he and his lover had been for the past two months since his notorious initiation into Voldemort's inner circle. He felt terrible, but the memories of Theo and his horrible violation were permanently etched into his mind, and viciously replayed every time he and Harry were together. He'd tried to fix it; tried to stop himself from feeling the automatic reactions he now had to any form of intimacy with his lover, but he couldn't seem to succeed. There was nothing he could do to stop it.

He watched sadly as the other bustled around the room. Harry caught his eyes and Draco was immediately granted with a loving, beautiful smile.

He looked away, heart thudding.

Gods, he was being so unfair to Harry. He loved him deeply, desperately; wanted so badly to just fix this problem so that they could continue with their relationship. He hadn't even mentioned the way he'd been feeling, and had tried his best to keep it hidden from the other boy, simply wanting to figure it out on his own and get back to the way things used to be between them. He was getting incredibly frustrated with the entire situation.

He shook harder, haywire emotions making him feel even more out of control. He felt like his skin was positively _crawling. _He felt repulsively dirty, and bit his lip hard on the gasps that threatened to claw their way up his throat.

"Be back in a bit," Harry promised, oblivious, before turning towards the door of the Room of Requirement.

Draco, in his relief that the other boy was leaving, finally lost the battle– but it was just a second too early. As Harry was stepping out of the door, he heard it: a small whimper, coming from the bed behind him.

He turned, moving backwards and swiftly closing the door before stepping towards the other boy. "Draco?" he asked, concerned. "Are you alright?"

The blond's eyes widened, and he couldn't seem to control the way his body was reacting. "I-I'm fine," he gasped, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and moving to stand, "I j-just need a shower."

He pushed himself onto his feet on legs much too wobbly to hold him, and, abruptly, felt himself begin to fall.

"Shit," Harry cursed, running to him and catching him round the waist.

The feeling of warm skin on his naked body made an already panicking Draco positively blanch, though, and he wheeled backward away from his lover, suddenly feeling utterly exposed. "Don't touch me!" he exclaimed, inexplicably terrified.

"What is_ wrong_ with you?" Harry asked, exasperated. "Merlin, you're shaking like you've just been thrown into an ice bath!"

Draco summoned up every ounce of strength he had and valiantly attempted to school his body into calm. "L-look, Harry, I'm fine," he said, locking eyes with him, grey begging green to let it go. "So please just go to your practice. I'm okay, really."

Harry stared at him, not believing the ruse for a second. But his expression was so desperate, so pleading; it was clear he didn't want to talk about whatever the problem was, at least not when he was so on edge. Harry sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "I'm not letting this go, Draco," he warned, voice stern.

Draco's chest heaved in what would've been another gasp, but he luckily clamped down on it in time. "I'm _fine_," he firmly reiterated."Just go, Harry."

Harry bit his lip, then sighed again. "Alright."

He leaned in for a quick kiss, and Draco's mask abruptly broke. His face twisted in revulsion and he shoved at Harry's chest, forcing him backwards.

Harry looked like he'd been slapped. His expression was full of bewilderment and hurt; his eyes, so green, darkened with a sadness that was heart-wrenching. He took a step backwards, visibly swallowing any retort he could've made. There was nothing that could be said.

Draco felt panic close in. He was going to lose him.

"Harry, wait, I'm sorry!" he cried, lunging for him. He caught him around the neck and held on for dear life, desperate to fix the hurt he'd just caused. "Please, don't be angry. I didn't mean it!"

Harry, startled, wrapped his arms around the boy's waist and hurriedly replied, "I'm not angry, Draco– just confused as hell!"

"I'm _sorry_," the blond whispered again, miserably, burying his face into Harry's shoulder and feeling emotion thud through him. His breaths were coming fast and uneven, gusting out against Harry's neck with an irregularity that was nearly frightening. "I'm so sorry, Harry, I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Baby, it's alright," Harry gently reassured, bewildered at the boy's behavior, running cautious hands up and down his back and through his soft blond hair to comfort him. "Just breathe. I'm not upset." When the other merely burrowed closer to him and refused to speak, Harry murmured gently, "Draco, it's _okay_. Just...tell me what this is about. Tell me how I can help."

"You can't help, Harry, that's just it," Draco said sadly, lifting his trembling hands to grasp onto Harry's shirt as if he needed something to anchor him. "Nothing will. It's useless."

"You don't know that," Harry countered, tucking blond hair behind soft ears and smoothing it in place. "Let me try, at least."

Draco swallowed thickly. "I really don't want to talk about it," he said lowly, voice muffled in Harry's chest. "N-not yet."

"It's hurting you," Harry tried again, gently pushing him back until he was cradling the boys face and their eyes met. "And that hurts me."

Draco's fingers found Harry's wrists and clutched onto them. He bit back a whimper and said again, "I really don't want to, Harry. I c-can't."

Harry sighed, concernedly thumbing down Draco's unnaturally pale, gaunt cheeks; the boy obviously hadn't slept well for a long while. "Okay," he finally said. "I'm not going to make you, Draco. But I wish you'd tell me."

"I will," Draco reassured, "Just... not now."

Harry was silent for a moment, and Draco took that time to murmur, "I love you, Harry. Please don't ever think otherwise."

Harry stroked his jaw, face still perplexed. "I love you too," he absently replied.

Draco closed his eyes, reveling in the other boy's touch. Now that he'd calmed, and the contact wasn't sexual, he could actually enjoy it; it was a soothing balm to his frazzled nerves, and he wished Harry could stay with him for longer.

"I've got to go," Harry said regretfully, bringing Draco to his chest for a quick hug. "Get some rest, yeah? You look like a raccoon with those bags under your eyes."

"Shut up, Potter, like you look any better," Draco retorted, swatting at him half-heartedly.

Harry quirked a grin and let him go, then grabbed his things and hurried out of the room. Draco watched him go, feeling lingering disappointment, shame, and guilt race through his veins– and knew that he had to fix this. He wouldn't lose Harry.

He trudged back to the bathroom and got into the shower, scrubbing his skin practically raw– as was usual these days after sex with Harry. Dripping wet and sore, he looked at himself in the mirror, and didn't feel any cleaner. He supposed he'd gotten used to feeling dirty, though.

He pulled on some clothes and went off to see his favorite potions professor, and vowed that he was going to figure out how to block these stupid memories if it killed him.

CONFRONTINGCALAMITY

Blaise stumbled into the broom closet he'd just been tugged towards, and just barely caught himself on the warm body in front of him.

"So you're the one pulling me into broom closets now, eh?" Blaise chuckled against his lover's thick brown hair.

Seamus laughed and pulled him down for a messy kiss, made sloppy by the darkness, and wound his arms around his shoulders. "Are you complaining?" he asked lowly.

"Not in the slightest," the taller boy replied, catching the others lips again. They kissed for a few long, heated moments, and then Blaise's hands were slipping up Seamus' robes, cold fingers making purchase on the smooth skin of his back.

Seamus froze for a moment, as he always did, getting adjusted to the feelings racing through him at the feel of the other boy's touch.

"It's alright, beauty," Blaise hummed, moving to his neck and placing small, lingering kisses there. "There's nothing wrong with this."

At the familiar pet name, Seamus felt himself relax into his lover. "There is, though," he said softly after a moment. He leaned in closer at Blaise's questioning look, and whispered into his ear, "We're both still dressed."

Blaise snorted and slid off the other boy's shirt. "I'm working on that," he said, nipping at his lover's collar bone, before sliding down lower, licking down the boy's chest.

Seamus groaned, fingers sliding into Blaise's hair and stroking there appreciatively. At that moment, Blaise looked up at him, eyes shining, and kissed his navel.

"I love you," he murmured, breath hot and making Seamus tremble.

The Irish boy cradled the other's face, marveling at how far they'd come together– at how far they still had to go.

"I l-love you too," he whispered, kneeling down to kiss him, so tenderly Blaise felt himself hold his breath. When it was over, Seamus leaned forward and laid his forehead against the other's shoulder, more exhausted by the confession than three quickies in the closet would've made him.

Blaise wrapped his arms around his lover and rocked him from side to side, kissing his temple; his hair; feeling more close to the boy than he'd ever felt.

This year was definitely looking up.

CONFRONTINGCALAMITY

"You look a bit preoccupied, mate," Seamus observed, walking with Harry to the Great Hall for dinner a few hours later. "Trouble in paradise?"

Harry snorted. "You could say that."

Seamus raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? The last time I checked, you and Malfoy were crazy about each other."

"We still are," Harry hurried to confirm. "He's just been acting really...odd...lately."

"He's always odd," Seamus dead-panned, strolling up to the Gryffindor table and taking his usual seat next to Dean, who greeted him tiredly before returning to a large text book.

"Yeah, I guess," Harry muttered, looking lost in his thoughts as he sat down on his other side. "But this time, it's different. I–

"Want to talk about it later, mate?" the Irish boy asked lowly, flushing a little.

Harry's eyes narrowed. Seamus had regressed a lot since a couple months before, when he'd actually been considering outing himself to the entire school along with Harry and Draco. Now, while he wasn't spitting homophobic remarks every other word, he was still very uncomfortable with talking to Harry about his relationship, and would become enraged if Harry ever dared to bring up his with Blaise in public.

"Whatever," he replied, a bit coolly.

Seamus blinked and looked over at him, eyes questioning, as if he didn't know what the problem was. Harry stared at his food, already in a bad mood and not wanting to deal with the other boy's cowardice.

_At least, _he thought gratefully, _At least Draco is brave enough to admit to the world that he loves me. Whatever this problem is, it can't be anywhere near as destructive as that._

"Hey Harry, your ferret is here," Ron interrupted his thoughts, voice fonder than it used to be when speaking of the youngest Malfoy.

Harry's face lit up, and he looked away from his food to see his lover marching swiftly towards him–

– looking withdrawn and irritated.

Brilliant.

"Ooh, what'd you do, mate? He looks mad!" some third year chimed in, prompting an immediate glare from every one of Harry's friends, as well as the Boy Who Lived himself.

"Hey," Harry said softly, moving to give the boy a quick kiss as he sat down, but then thinking better of it and pulling back.

Draco, seeing the correction, felt self-directed anger rise up like a tidal wave, and he grabbed Harry by the back of his head and slammed their lips together in a needy, passionate kiss. Hoots and catcalls filled the Gryffindor table, and then it was over, leaving both participants dazed.

"Hey," Draco finally replied, sitting down next to the other boy and attempting to subtly get his breath back.

Harry gave a nervous, breathless laugh, then pulled his lover close and kissed the top of his head. "Now that was what I call a greeting," he said quietly into his hair.

Draco did not make an attempt to laugh– he was exhausted, frustrated, and angry with himself, and did not feel the least bit mirthful– but did lean against the other boy, taking comfort in his embrace.

"You don't look happy," Harry observed, fingers stroking up and down the blond's arm.

"It's nothing," Draco denied, not wanting to talk about it. He'd gone to Snape an hour before, and the man had quite simply told him that no, he wouldn't brew a potion that would help with his memories because Draco "needed to learn how to handle that type of thing on his own if he was going to spy for the Light in the upcoming months." It was true, of course, but entirely infuriating all the same. He was back to square one, and felt just as helpless as he had before.

"Doesn't seem like it," Harry muttered, but he didn't push the issue.

Draco, ignoring the comment, filled his plate with food he didn't intend to eat and began to push it around with his fork. "How was Quidditch?" he asked, still pressing close to the other boy.

"Trying to get inside info on Gryffindor tactics, Malfoy?" Ron asked, good-naturedly.

"I'm not on the Slytherin team anymore, Weasley," Draco said coolly. "So spying on you wouldn't do much good."

When they all looked at him blankly, he snapped, "What? You didn't hear?"

Ron blinked. "No. No, I didn't."

"I didn't either," Harry said, looking at him with an expression of surprise.

"It's not a big deal," Draco said uncomfortably.

"It is to me," Harry said vehemently.

"And to us as well," Hermione chimed in, tawny eyes looking sympathetic.

"Look, I can't stand any of them, and they can't stand me," Draco said through gritted teeth. "It was best for all to just remove me from the situation entirely."

"Well, I don't understand how all of your housemates in general could still treat you so badly with Flint expelled," Hermione sniffed, looking upset for him. "He was the one leading them all, right?"

"It doesn't matter whether he's here or not. The fact is, I'm sleeping with the enemy. Hell, I spend more time with Gryffindors than with my own House." He sighed; rubbed a hand over his eyes. "I've lost all of their respect, Hermione, and in Slytherin, that's the biggest offense you can make. They don't owe me anything, and will do whatever it takes to make me pay for betraying my own, regardless of if they have a leader or not."

"You didn't betray anyone," Hermione said fervently. "You were only following your heart. I don't understand how–

"Oh, come off it, Hermione," Draco scoffed. "Most Slytherins are in arranged marriages by the time they're in fifth year. They don't give a shit about love and romance and fairy tale endings. In their minds, me being with Harry is the ultimate betrayal and thus I deserve everything they throw at me."

"You sound like you're justifying them," Harry murmured, speaking up for the first time. He wasn't looking at Draco, but the blond could see the sudden tightness in his expression. "You sound...bitter." _Like you regret it, _was left unsaid, but Draco heard it.

"Harry," he said softly, touching his knee underneath the table. "It's not like that at all. I'm just...trying to explain. Slytherins are very different from Gryffindors. I went against several of our rules, and am now paying the price. I _understand _it. But I don't regret it. Not in the slightest."

Harry's face smoothed out, and he reached up to bring the boy in for a side hug, pressing him close and breathing in his scent. "Alright," he said softly.

Hermione sighed a little, along with several other girls in the vicinity.

"You guys are so... " Padma began, but then she suddenly gasped, pointing towards the doors of the Great Hall with horror written all over her face. "Oh, Merlin, look!"

"What is it?" Seamus asked, turning to see the commotion.

_Oh...oh, God. Blaise._

Blaise Zabini limped across the floor, looking like he could barely hold himself up. He was positively _battered_: bruises littered his limbs, he was covered in blood, and he was groaning in pain with every step.

Seamus was on his feet before he could even think about what he was doing. "Blaise!" he called, running for him.

Dumbledore was faster. "Everyone, stay back!" he ordered to the several students who came running towards the injured student. Seamus skidded to a stop, eyes helplessly roaming over his lover's body, eyeing the odd way his arm was hanging, the blood dripping from his nose, the way his uninjured arm was curled around undoubtably bruised ribs...Merlin, he was a mess. "B-Blaise," he choked out, worry making it hard to speak.

Blaise heard him and dizzily caught his eyes, then mouthed, 'I'm alright.'

Seamus didn't believe him for a second, but couldn't do anything but watch as Dumbledore finally reached Blaise and caught him by the shoulders, then calmly asked, "What happened, my boy? Who did this to you?"

"L-Lucius," Blaise choked out, seeming close to unconsciousness. "Lucius Malfoy. He's broken out of Azkaban. He's in the castle."

Behind Seamus, Draco, who'd just run up to hear the conversation, felt the world come crashing down around him.

"Oh, Merlin, no," he whispered.

His knees buckled, and the ground came rushing up to meet him.

"Draco!"


	3. The Plan

**AN:** I hope everyone is having a good holiday! I personally am bored as hell, but hey, that means more writing gets done. xD Anyway, this chapter is kind of short, and doesn't have a lot of interaction between our favorite couple, but I promise that it's all in preparation for the next few chapters, which will be FULL of it. Just be patient-- the next chapter is almost finished! In the mean time, I hope you still enjoy this one, even if it is a bit of a filler.

**Warnings:** kissing, cursing

**Pairings:** Harry/Draco, Blaise/Seamus

**Disclaimer:** Not mine.

* * *

The Great Hall was utterly silent.

"Draco!" Harry broke the quiet as he lunged for his lover, whose knees had buckled underneath him at the news. He didn't make it in time, and the crash as Draco hit the ground jarred the student body out of its stillness.

The whole room erupted in sounds of panic: students yelling and shouting, hurling insults at Draco; at Azkaban for not having better security– any form of fear and anger that could manifest itself made itself known in those few moments.

Harry ignored it all, running for Draco and kneeling down next to his fallen form, immediately scooping him into his arms and pulling him up until he was sitting. The blond's face was twisted in pain, and he was clutching at his bad knee, which had knocked the ground quite hard in the fall.

"Draco, are you alright?" Harry hurriedly asked, catching his face in both hands and turning him till they were facing one another. Concern flooded through him at the sight; Draco's face was utterly pale with shock and fright, and his eyes were listless and unfocused with pain and shock. "Draco," Harry said again, shaking him.

Draco blinked and seemed to come back to himself. "H-Harry?" he croaked, blinking rapidly. He suddenly sat up straight and demanded, "Harry, please tell me I heard wrong. Please tell me Lucius isn't here."

Harry felt sympathy race through him, and pulled the other boy close. "He's in the castle," he sadly murmured. When Draco tensed, he immediately continued, "But it's alright, baby, I'm sure Dumbledore will–

"Silence!" said wizard suddenly bellowed. The noise in the Hall came to a skidding halt, and all looked to Dumbledore, seeking comfort in the chaos. "It will do us no good to panic," Dumbledore continued when all had finally calmed. "Everyone needs to settle down and not lose their heads. First thing's first, Mr. Zabini will be escorted to the Hospital Wing–

"But Malfoy's still in the castle!" Seamus angrily protested. "He could get hurt even worse!"

Dumbledore put up a patient hand. "I understand that, Mr. Finnegan. That is why Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall will be accompanying him. I should think that they would be able to handle Lucius, if there is any issue."

Seamus backed off, but he was still fuming, the mix of worry and anger making him very volatile indeed.

"Now, classes for the afternoon will be canceled, and we will all stay in here until this matter's been settled," Dumbledore said firmly. "Everyone please do not be alarmed, and feel free to continue with your meal. I can assure you that we will have Lucius Malfoy back in Azkaban as soon as we are able."

With that, he waved Snape and McGonagall down from the teacher's table to help get Blaise to the Hospital Wing, and the Great Hall began to get loud again. Seamus could only watch helplessly as the two teachers made their way to his lover, desperately trying to figure out within those few seconds how the hell he could find a way to come with the other boy.

He turned around, searching the crowd, and suddenly got an idea.

"Hey, McLaggen!" he called, waving over his brutish classmate.

Cormac turned to him, eyebrows raised in question, and walked over with his usual arrogant swagger. As soon as he got close enough, Seamus promptly threw an impressive right hook-- right into his nose.

"What the _fuck, _Finnegan!" Cormac cursed, lunging for him. He knocked the Irish boy to the ground, fists flying, and proceeded to pummel his face in with all of the rage of an insulted, aggressive teenage boy. Seamus did not even fight back, wanting the boy to injure him as badly as possible in the few seconds it took for someone to come and yank the larger boy off of him. By the time this happened, Seamus had felt his lip split open, his nose break, and his jaw crack under the pressure of the blows. _Perfect, _he thought through the pain, _If this doesn't qualify me to come with, than I don't know __what will._

When it was finally over, he, coughing up a surprising amount of blood, rolled to his side, genuinely in pain; Cormac had thrown quite a few impressive punches, and his whole face was thrumming with the after effects.

"Seamus," Blaise's familiar voice rasped from above him. "Seamus, can you stand? Are you alright?"

"30 points from Gryffindor for starting a fight!" Snape snapped. "Now get up, Finnegan. You're coming to the Hospital Wing."

"What about me?" Cormac protested. "My nose is–

"_Episkey,_" Snape said, fixing the problem with a small yelp from the other student. "Now, Finnegan, let's go!"

Seamus bit back the grin that was fighting to split his face– he'd done it!– and staggered to his feet. He didn't meet Blaise's eyes, but could feel the way the other boy was glaring at him, and knew he'd have some explaining to do when they got to the Wing. Regardless, he was glad he'd succeeded. He wasn't going to leave Blaise alone for a second after he'd been hurt so badly.

"Wait, can Draco go as well?" Harry spoke up from the floor, where he was attempting to help the blond to his feet. "His knee needs to be checked out."

Dumbledore took a look at the way Draco was standing, and nodded. "Certainly, Mr. Potter. Mr. Malfoy, come here. Severus will help you to the Wing."

"Can't I come with?" Harry asked, protectively winding an arm around his injured lover's waist. Draco, who would've usually vehemently protested to such treatment, proclaiming he could 'do it on his own, thank you very much', stayed silent; in fact, he pressed closer to Harry's side, thinly veiled terror clear in the movement. It was obvious he didn't want to part from the other boy either.

Dumbledore picked up on this, but regretfully shook his head. "We need to keep as many students as we can in a place where they will be the most protected– which is in the Great Hall. These three are only being put at risk because they're injured. I'm sorry, Mr. Potter, but I'm going to have to ask you to remain where you are."

Harry sighed, and gave his lover a squeeze. "Alright." He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the blond's temple. "Be careful."

Draco nodded, gave him a kiss in return, and reluctantly limped over to Snape, who took his arm and began helping him towards the doors. Harry watched them go, concerned eyes following his lover all the way out.

"Not so subtle of Seamus, huh," Ron muttered from behind him, walking up with a frightened-looking Hermione at his side.

Harry gave a preoccupied chuckle and turned around to face them, and half-heartedly agreed, "Yeah, I think he beat out Parkinson for the 'concerned lover' award."

Ron snorted and added, "She definitely didn't get over there as fast as he did."

"He looked terrified," Hermione murmured, remembering the look that had come over the Irish boy's face when he'd caught sight of his battered lover.

"I'm sure he was," Ron agreed, sobering. "If anyone had done something like that to you..." He shook his head, looking enraged at the mere thought.

Hermione gave him a squeeze. "No one should have to be hurt like that," she said, a bit sadly.

Harry nodded, abruptly being brought back to memories from months before: Draco, hanging in his father's basement, broken and battered, too injured to even move on his own. The world could truly be a cruel place.

"Worried, Harry?" Hermione asked, putting a hand on his arm and bringing him back to the present.

Harry nodded shortly. "You both know what his father is capable of. If he gets his hands on Draco..."

"Don't think about it, mate," Ron reassured him, clapping him on the shoulder. "Let's just go sit down, alright? I'm sure he'll be fine."

Harry sighed. "I hope so." He trudged back to his seat, and tried not to let his morbid imagination run wild.

CONFRONTINGCALAMITY

"What in Merlin's name were you thinking?" Blaise asked in a hiss as soon as his stubborn idiot of a lover showed up at his bedside. It had been a few hours, and they had both been healed quite a bit; Blaise at least enough to breathe without wanting to vomit from agony, and Seamus enough to be missing all but an impressive shiner and dried blood on his brow.

"What do you mean?" Seamus asked, feigning innocence.

Blaise's eyes narrowed. "I'm too fucking exhausted do deal with your games, Seamus, so come off it," he snapped, then promptly began violently coughing, still not quite recovered from the effects of the Cruciatus. The stress was just too much for his injured body.

"Blaise," Seamus breathed, stepping to his side and beginning to stroke his hair to calm him. "Fuck, I'm sorry. Breathe. Shh, you're alright..."

Eventually Blaise calmed, and then he tried again, rasping quietly, "What were you trying to pull out there? He could've really hurt you."

"That was kind of the point," Seamus admitted, playing guiltily with a stray lock of black hair. "I just...I wanted to come with you. I didn't want to be stuck in there with you being alone out here. You could've been hurt again."

Blaise sighed heavily, obviously frustrated, but his eyes were less hard. "I figured it was something like that," he muttered, shaking his head. "And as much as I appreciate the gesture, Seam, you didn't need to get yourself beat up for me."

Seamus' eyes dropped, staring anxiously at the bed sheets. "I didn't really think it through," he said softly. "I just saw you like that and...and I couldn't–I couldn't just let you leave. I was worried, Blaise. I was fucking terrified."

"Seamus," Blaise sighed, frustrated but touched. "Come here."

"But I might–

"It's fine, beauty. Come here."

Seamus exhaled and cautiously lay down beside his lover, curling close to his chest and taking care not to put too much pressure on his battered body. "Sorry," he muttered. "It _was_ kind of stupid."

"Kind of?"

"Shut up."

They laughed a little, then Seamus gave a soft hum of content, murmuring after a moment, "We've made quite the home of hospital beds, huh?"

Blaise quirked a half-smile. "Among other places."

Seamus snorted. "Pervert."

They were silent for a moment, merely taking comfort in one another, and then Seamus spoke up again.

"You gonna tell me what happened?" he ventured, tentatively.

Blaise tensed a little in remembered pain, then, after a squeeze from his lover, began the tale. "Well..." he cleared his throat. "I was walking to the Great Hall for dinner. I didn't have anyone with me because I'd been running late with my studies. I was passing through the dungeons when Malfoy stumbled into the corridor. He was a mess. His clothes were ragged, his hair was disgusting– he looked like a crazed man."

"Mhm," Seamus murmured, pressing a soft kiss of encouragement to the boy's chest.

"I tried to reason with him; tried to figure out what he wanted. He wasn't very coherent. He just kept going on about Draco– about finding him and making him pay for what he'd done, and something about a disease. He started asking me about where he was, and about his relationship with Potter. Apparently I didn't give him the answers he was looking for."

"What'd he do?" Seamus asked worriedly, lifting his head to look at the other boy's face.

Blaise reached up with his good arm to play with Seamus' hair. His answer was careful; a bit hesitant. "He took out a wand– Merlin knows how he got one– and Crucio'd me."

Seamus' mouth opened and closed, and then anger came, hot and quick. "Are you fucking _kidding _me?" he asked, low and furious. "I swear, I'll–

"Easy, Seam, there's nothing you can do about it now," Blaise calmly interrupted. "I should've been more prepared and disarmed him before he had the chance."

"It's not your fault, Blaise, it's _his_," Seamus snapped, breathing hard through his nose, absolutely enraged. The idea of someone hurting Blaise like that made his temper flare like nothing else. "I can't believe– I'm so– how long did it go on for?"

Blaise swallowed, averting his eyes. "Couple minutes."

"Blaise!" Seamus hissed, terrified. "A couple _minutes_!? Harry fucking Potter hasn't even experienced that!" He breathed hard for a moment, then abruptly embraced his lover, burying his face in the boy's chest, utterly terrified. "Oh my god..."

"Hey, I'm _okay_," Blaise whispered, smoothing down the boy's hair. "Just gonna be a little sore for a while is all."

Seamus tried to calm his breathing, but he kept imagining the other boy seizing in excruciating pain, writhing with it...

"Shh, it's over now," Blaise gently reminded, stroking his back. "I'm going to be alright."

They were silent for a long while, Seamus calming and Blaise comforting him until the Irish boy finally murmured, "How did you...how did you get away?"

"When he took off the curse, I couldn't do much of anything," Blaise said quietly. "I just lay there on the floor. He could've killed me if he'd wanted."

"Blaise," Seamus whispered, almost involuntarily, holding him closer.

"He asked me once more if I knew anything about where Draco's loyalties lie," the other boy continued, past his moment of vulnerability. "I told him I knew nothing about it. That's when things got a little more physical."

"He hit you?" Seamus asked, peering up at him again.

Blaise nodded. "Kicked me in the face a few times. And hit me with that damn cane of his. I guess he must've somehow gotten it back after escaping."

Seamus ran a concerned hand down his lover's newly healed face, remembering how bloody and bruised it had been just hours before. He leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss on his forehead, then his nose, and, finally, his lips. "You must've been terrified," he said softly, stroking the boy's jaw.

Blaise met his eyes, seeing the concern and love there, and felt warmth flood through him. "It went by very quickly. I didn't really have time to panic," he reassured him.

"My brave Slytherin," Seamus murmured. He leaned forward for another kiss, lingering a little longer this time. "I'm glad you're alright," he whispered.

"Me too," Blaise breathed, rubbing the back of the other boy's neck. "I'm lucky he didn't finish the job. Just got tired of trying to beat it out of me and went off to find the source himself."

"He went after Malfoy?"

Blaise nodded. "He said if he found out Draco was consorting with Muggle-lovers and had betrayed the Dark Lord, he wouldn't live to regret it."

Seamus swallowed thickly. "Wow."

"All I can say is, Draco had better watch his back. Lucius Malfoy isn't someone to take lightly."

_**Across the room...**_

"Draco, you have to take this seriously," Severus admonished lowly. He and the blond were finally alone now that Madame Pomfrey had healed his regressed knee, and he needed to make sure the younger Malfoy understood the direness of the situation.

"I am taking it seriously," Draco said calmly. "But it'll do no good to panic about it."

"I'm not asking you to panic, I'm asking you to think," Snape snapped. "Your father broke out of Azkaban to come find you. According to Zabini, he wants to make sure you're still on the Dark side."

"And?"

"And he needs to be convinced that you _are, _Draco– or else the Dark Lord will find out that you're not playing for his team!" the irate professor exclaimed. "The key to being a _spy_, if you hadn't figured it out, is to make sure that those whom you're spying on don't realize what you're doing!"

"You want me to find my father, then?" Draco asked, getting a bit riled himself. "Tell him my relationship with Harry is a farce, even though it's quite obvious to everyone that it's not?"

Snape began to pace. "No, that would be entirely too dangerous," he muttered. "And we've already agreed that you won't have to lie about your relationship. We can use it to our advantage, if Voldemort thinks you can sway Potter into joining the ranks."

Draco snorted. "And I told you that that's a stupid plan. Harry would never switch sides, and everyone knows it."

"Damnit, Draco, it's all we've got!" Snape suddenly exploded, anger and frustration from the long day making his temper snap.

Draco blinked, utterly surprised. "Severus, I–

"Save it," Snape breathed, rubbing a tired hand over his face. "You're right. It's not a plan that's likely to succeed. But we don't know how else to handle this...situation."

"Harry and I being together, you mean," Draco dead-panned.

Snape nodded. "It's impossible to use to our advantage. No one's going to believe that you're only with him for information. It's clear that you two...care...about one another."

Draco snorted darkly. "And that's not going to change."

Snape sighed, and they were silent for a moment. Then, suddenly, he stopped pacing, a faraway look coming over his face. "You know, maybe..." he began slowly, stroking his chin. "Maybe it doesn't have to. Maybe it can just _look _like it."

"What are you mumbling about?" Draco sighed.

Snape turned towards him and said quietly, "I think you need to break up with Potter."

"_What_?" a flabbergasted blond demanded, sitting up higher in his bed. "I just _told _you that it's not going to–

"And _I _said, it doesn't have to. It just has to _look _like it, Draco!" He began pacing again, thinly veiled excitement pulsing through him. "Think about it. You break his heart in front of everyone– make it look really believable. Regain your spot in Slytherin, and restore your image as a loyal follower of the Dark Lord. Then you tell Voldemort that Harry was merely a lapse in judgement."

He breathed for a moment, continuing to think the idea through, while Draco bit back a retort and tried to listen to his crazy genius of a godfather.

"Then," he began again, "start feeding him stories about how Harry is still pining for you; trying to get you back. Convince Voldemort that you can lure Potter into some sort of trap by offering to, I don't know, rekindle things– and this is where Voldemort can finally put an end to the Boy Who Lived. Only, what he won't know, is that at this trap, the whole Order will be waiting– and we can attempt to end this war for once and all, for our side."

He finally stopped, then turned towards Draco, whose face was shuttered and guarded.

"It's a better bet than the first plan," he said after a long while, voice soft and contemplative.

"But...?"

Draco shook his head, rubbing his hands tiredly over his wan face. "It's going to involve hurting Harry. If you want to make it believable, I won't be able to tell him about the break up before we do it. He can't act to save his life."

Snape couldn't dredge up enough sympathy to show on his face, but managed to offer, "You can explain it later. He may be angry at first, but it's all for a bigger cause. He'll get over it."

"True," Draco conceded. He sighed heavily. "Alright, I suppose."

"I know it's not what you'd want, Draco," Severus said, in a rare moment of empathy. "But we all have to do what we have to do."

Draco nodded. "I know."

They were silent for a moment, then Draco quietly asked, "How do we deal with Lucius, then?"

Snape sat down at the edge of his godson's bed, thinking. "I suppose we have to find him," he finally said. "And tell him our plan for the demise of the Light side– and his son's starring role in it."

Draco felt bitterness lash at his insides. "He'll be so proud."

He only wished he could feel anything but shame at what he was about to do.

* * *

**AN:** Don't worry too much, guys. I'm hard at work on the next chapter, and it's not turning out at all like what you're probably thinking. Put it this way: there's angst, but it's all the hurt/comfort kind (is there anything better? xD) So don't hate me too much!

Thanks for reading, n I hope you enjoyed it. Get ready for the Harry/Draco next chapter!

Much loveee.

CSTSS


	4. Infected

**AN:** Wow, so...I started writing this, knowing exactly where I wanted it to go, and then it suddenly morphed into something entirely different and I had no choice but to go with it. And, in a bizarre way, despite how dark this chapter is, I think it's one of the best things I've written in a long time. I'm actually a little proud of it, which is rare for me haha. So I hope you guys enjoy it, and for those of you who can't handle certain dark aspects, please check the warnings and read at your own risk.

Also, there was a formatting issue with this one, and my computer decided to make all of the commas and apostrophes into weirdass symbols so I had to re-write them all but I might've missed some. So if you see any random marks, sorry! Blame this stupid ancient thing. (Which I secretly love. *muah.* xD)

Happy New Years!

**Pairings:** Harry/Draco, Blaise/Seamus; Minor: Ron/Hermione, Remus/Sirius

**Warnings:** NCS (non-consensual sex), cursing

**Disclaimer:** Not mine.

* * *

"So let's find Lucius, then," Draco said, scooting to the edge of the bed and preparing to stand.

"Did Madame Pomfrey look at your knee?" Snape asked, showing a rare flare of concern. He quickly covered it up with, "I don't want you to end up with a cane."_Like your father, _was left unsaid.

Draco winced, hearing the unspoken words loud and clear. "Me neither," he agreed. "And yes, Madame Pomfrey said it was fine, just might be a little sore for a day or so."

Snape nodded. "Then we'll have to tell Professor McGonagall that we're heading back to the Great Hall. She obviously cannot know of our plans."

"Of course not," Draco replied, getting to his feet and holding back a grimace; his knee was indeed sore. "Let's get to it, then."

He followed Snape out, limping a little, and slipped on an indifferent mask when McGonagall came into sight.

"What do you think you're doing, Severus?" she asked lowly, as if Draco couldn't hear her.

"I'm taking Mr. Malfoy back to the Great Hall," Snape calmly responded. "His knee has been checked out, and he's cleared to go."

Her eyes narrowed, instinct telling her something different. "Okay," she finally said. "Be careful heading back. Lucius hasn't been found yet."

Snape nodded and stalked forward towards the door, Draco in tow.

"So what's the plan?" Draco asked as soon as they were out of hearing distance from the Hospital Wing. "How are we going to find him?"

Severus did not look back at him. "We won't_._ He'll find us."

CONFRONTINGCALAMITY

"It's been hours," Hermione sighed, leaning tiredly against Ron, who kissed the top of her head and replied,

"I know. For one guy, he sure is giving the Hogwarts staff a run for their money."

"He's not exactly a harmless guy, Ron," Harry said, looking worn and worried. "He's a worthy opponent for any of our teachers."

"You think more people have gotten hurt?" Padma asked fearfully from across the table.

Harry gave a grim shrug. "It's entirely possible."

"I'm sure Draco's safe, Harry," Hermione said softly, seeing the worry all over his face. "He's got two professors with him, and he's not exactly weak himself."

"Lucius came here to get him, and won't stop until he succeeds," Harry muttered, almost to himself. **"**Fuck, I should've demanded to come with him...how can I protect him from in here?"

"He'll be _fine, _Harry," Hermione persisted. "Just relax and wait till this all--

"How the hell can I relax, Hermione? Draco could be..."

He suddenly stopped; his pocket had grown warm where he and Draco's spelled paper rested. He pulled it out frantically, and his heart immediately sank.

_Help m – _

In an obviously frantic scrawl, Draco had attempted to write 'help me' but hadn't managed to finish the end of 'e'; it ended in a morbid line, as if the pen had been wrenched from his hands and had clawed its final way across the paper beforehand.

Harry got to his feet, looking horrified.

"Harry, mate," Ron tried, "What's–

"I'm going," Harry said, in a tone that brooked no argument. He ran for the doors, where Hagrid was waiting.

"Harry, what do ye think yer doin?" the half-giant asked, peering down at him in question.

Harry didn't even stop, merely pushed his way through the doors and took off into the corridors behind it.

"Harry Potter, get back here!"

He heard the teachers yelling behind him, but ignored them, running faster and harder than he'd ever ran in his life. _I'm coming, Draco. Please be okay._

CONFRONTINGCALAMITY

"_Petrificus totalus!"_

Snape, beside him, suddenly went still, falling frozen to the floor.

Draco's heart stopped, as did his feet, and he closed his eyes, trying to find calm.

"Hello, Father," he finally murmured.

Lucius walked around until he was standing in front of his son, and Draco suppressed a gasp at the sight of him. He looked ragged; hell, he looked downright _filthy_; he was wearing traditional Azkaban garb– a dirty, disgusting potato sack of an outfit– and his hair, once beautiful and flowing, was a tangled, grimy mess. The most surprising part, though, was his demeanor: his eyes were crazed, he was breathing like he'd just run for miles, and his face was twitching in a manner that clearly bespoke of insanity. Draco's fingers itched for his wand, but he knew it would infuriate the other man, so he stayed still.

"Draco," he said, a crazed tremor in his voice. "How delightful it is to see you."

Draco took a calming breath, not prepared for this bizarre version of his father, and stiffly replied, "I'm glad to see you've escaped."

"Liar," Lucius snapped, suddenly enraged, making Draco flinch a little. The anger smoothed out just as quickly as it came, though, and soon he was smiling again. "I've seen the latest photos of you and Potter. Very classy, Draco."

Draco sighed, remembering the job he had to do: the act he had to put on. His father might've been behaving a little strangely, but that didn't change the fact that Draco had to convince him of his loyalties to the Dark side.

"I've been meaning to talk to you about that," he said, with a practiced air of superiority, avoiding his father's wild eyes. "I'm leaving Potter tomorrow. My plan succeeded; he's fallen in love with me, and I can now use that to my advantage. After breaking his poor little heart, I'm going to lure him right into the Dark Lord's hands."

Lucius blinked, then erupted in loud, unnatural laughter. "Is that right?" he gasped, nearly in tears. "My precious little boy, finally living up to his name?"

Draco stared at him, disgust threatening to lift his upper lip. "Of course, Father. I never felt anything for him, you should know that. I'm not so repulsive as to partake in distasteful activities that could ruin our precious bloodline."

At the response, Lucius suddenly sobered, and stepped towards him, eyes narrowing dangerously. "You should know, Draco," insane laughter bubbled up and interrupted him, "That you can't fight this disease. Once you've been infected, it's all over."

"What are you talking about?" Draco asked, thrown off guard, trying to remain calm as the man cornered him against the wall.

"I've been infected too," Lucius whispered, baring his teeth in a horrible parody of a grin. "In Azkaban. They infected me. I'm like you, now."

"Father, you're b-behaving oddly," Draco stuttered, real fear threatening to rise in his voice. _Infected...? What is he talking about?_

Draco suddenly remembered his initiation; what Voldemort said to him just before Theo had been...had been raped, right in front of him.

_"What you're about to see is the truth of the disease you are battling inside of you. This is how disgusting it truly is."_

Oh. Draco abruptly understood.

Fear thudded through him at the realization.

He hit the wall behind him and felt something crinkle in his pocket, then suddenly remembered he still had Harry's gift from months before. Very carefully, as his father started speaking again, he pulled it out of his pocket, along with the quill he always kept with it.

"Every night, Draco, they came for me," Lucius said, very softly. "Infecting me with your disease. Making me do all sorts of vile things, things that I..."

He suddenly let out an enraged growl and wrenched Draco's wrist towards him; the paper he'd managed to scribble a word on fell to the floor, along with a dripping quill.

"Just what are you trying to pull, son?" Lucius asked, grabbing him by the throat and slamming his head back into the wall.

Draco coughed, sucking in air desperately through his nose, and tried to reach into his robes for his wand. Lucius was faster, and caught his arm with the hand he wasn't using to strangle the blond.

"Don't defy me, Draco," he whispered, rancid breath hot on Draco's mouth. "Have I taught you nothing? You must never raise your wand to me!"

Draco stayed very still in his father's hold, realizing that his father was not in his right mind and knowing that he had to be incredibly careful with him. "Y-yes, sir," he choked out.

Lucius' eyes roamed over Draco's face, and his grin suddenly got very feral. "You believe you've been cured," he whispered, squeezing the boy's throat tighter. "You think you're _better_ than I am. You're disgusted by me, Draco, admit it!"

Draco frantically shook his head. "I–I'm not–

"But you're infected too, Draco!" Lucius yelled, shaking him. "You'll never be cured! And yet you think I'm _below _you; you think I'm filthy!"

"Stop, please–

"Want me to show you? Want me to show you how disgusting I've become!?"

"No, Father, please just–

Draco broke off in a horrified scream, muffled by the mouth suddenly on top of his own. A thick, slippery tongue forced its way between his teeth, and he choked, shoving hard at the broad chest of the man in front of him.

"Help!" he yelled, after finally succeeding in pushing the disgusting lips away from his own. "Help mmf –

A hand over his mouth shut him up again, and his eyes widened in utter terror as he felt his shirt being torn open by his crazed father. He struggled furiously, slapping, scratching, kicking at Lucius, desperate to escape. When his fingernails made purchase on Lucius' face, splitting the skin open under the pressure, the other man's temper snapped. He wound a fist back and sent a right hook so hard into Draco's jaw that his vision went black and his knees buckled underneath him.

When his vision cleared, he'd been turned around and pressed into a wall in one of the many dark corners of the dungeon, and realized with sickening clarity what was about to happen. No student was around to help him– they were all in the Great Hall– and the teachers supposedly searching for his father were nowhere to be found.

He was utterly alone.

"Stop!" he screamed, kicking backwards dizzily, head pounding from the previous punch. He fought as hard as he could, determined to get out of the situation. "Father, it's_ me! _Stop!"

"I'll show you," Lucius chanted, crazily, not hearing him. He pressed forward, and Draco nearly vomited at the feel of his father's erection against his arse. "I'll show you how repulsive I am!"

"Help!" Draco wailed helplessly, struggling with all his might as his father ripped open his slacks and pulled them down his legs. Fingers suddenly pressed at his most private place, and at the intrusive feeling, frightened tears pricked at his eyes. He abruptly remembered Theo, sobbing on the floor, innocence about to be taken from the crazed man on top of him.

_Oh, God._

And then there was white hot agony; fingers were replaced with something impossibly larger and he was splitting in two; his father was inside him, tearing him open; he was going to die from it, the pain– _oh, Merlin, help me make it stop please please I can't take it anymore stopstopstop-- _

It was as if Merlin had truly heard him, because the next thing Draco knew, Lucius had been thrown into the adjacent wall so hard he heard bones crack with the pressure, and Harry Potter was standing above him, looking positively _murderous._

"You sick, disgusting piece of shit," Harry whispered, and then rage encompassed his whole being. He dropped his wand, grabbed Lucius by the hair, and slammed his head into the wall. He kicked at Lucius' stomach, then his face-- anywhere he could reach-- his booted feet slamming into muscles and bones and crushing them like mere ants; then his fists were flying too, his whole body hellbent on making the disgusting man in front of him feel as much pain as he could possibly invoke. "He's your son, you bastard!" he yelled, absolutely furious, relishing in the feel of the man's nose snapping underneath his fists. "He's your fucking _son_!"

"Harry, stop!" Albus Dumbledore's voice carried through the dungeon.

Harry heard him but didn't let up, anger running hot and fast in his veins, itching to destroy this– this _rapist_– this–

"Harry, stop this," Dumbledore murmured, behind him now. He put a cautious hand on his shoulder. "Draco needs you."

His lover's name seemed to strike a chord in Harry, and he stepped backward, shaking horribly, clenching his fists in an effort to keep them from lashing out once again. He bit his lip, hard, and looked down, anger making the air around him vibrate with power. "D-Draco– is he alright?" he choked out, trying to find some sort of focus to bring himself back down.

"He's understandably upset," the old wizard said calmly. "He could use your help."

Harry exhaled shakily, and felt some of the anger leave him. "Where is he?"

"_Scourgify,_" Dumbledore murmured, clearing the blood off Harry's hands, before pushing him towards a fallen Draco. "Go. We'll handle Lucius."

Harry nodded and turned towards his lover, his heart jumping into his throat at the sight. The other boy was crumpled mostly naked on the ground, head in his hands, shaking so badly Harry could see it from ten feet away. Harry could hear him gasping; could _feel _the lingering terror just from the few wrenching sounds he was making.

Harry rushed towards him, feeling anger froth up again at the ripped clothes and the scratches and bruises littering his skin. "Look at me, Draco," he said, grasping the boy by the face and shaking him a little. Unfocused silver eyes stared back at him, lost in some private hell that Harry couldn't see. "It's me, baby, it's Harry," he said a bit louder, thumbs automatically smoothing away the tears as they fell. "You're okay, love. You're safe. Can you hear me? Say something, baby. Come on."

Draco blinked, body suddenly shuddering all over.

"H-Harry," he whispered, "Oh, God, Harry, he– he–

He broke off, unable to continue, and Harry pulled him to his chest. "I know, I know," he soothed, heart clanging painfully in his chest. He pressed Draco's head into his shoulder and stroked his hair, trying to calm him. He felt liquid spill onto his neck, and felt the thin body in his arms wrack with sobs. "Oh, Draco," he murmured, rocking him. "It's okay. Shh, it's over now."

Draco tried to repress the emotions, but the gravity of what had just happened had hit him too hard to simply shake it off. He bit his lip against the sobs, but they came out despite him, fortunately muffled by Harry's chest. "It hurts," he gasped nonsensically, convulsing harder. "Harry, it _hurts._"

And it did. He felt like he'd been split open. His father had been much too large, and there had been no preparation; his whole lower body was burning with pain.

At the words and the sheer agony behind them, anger filled Harry so completely his vision nearly went black. "I know, love," he said, as reassuringly as he could. He intertwined their fingers and squeezed gently. "Just hang on, as tight as you need to. It'll be alright soon. I'm right here."

Draco nodded, shuddering horribly. Harry shucked off his own robe and laid it protectively over the other boy's nearly naked body, wanting to warm him. Draco burrowed into it, grateful, and tried to stop the whimpers clawing their way up his throat. He squeezed Harry's hand so hard it was a wonder it didn't break.

"Oh, would you look at that?" Lucius suddenly spat, coughing up words past the blood and the snot. "Looks like Potter isn't aware of your little plan, Draco!"

"Shut up," Draco whispered, fisting Harry's shirt in his fingers.

"Don't say another word, Malfoy," Harry warned, voice dangerously low, too angry to even comprehend the words Lucius was saying. "Unless you want a repeat performance of what just happened, I'd shut your fucking mouth."

"He doesn't know you're planning on breaking his heart," Lucius continued, voice mocking and deliberate. "Doesn't know that you thought you'd been cured!"

"I said, _shut up_!"

"I proved it, though! I proved you hadn't been cured; you're still as diseased as I am, son– I felt you; felt how aroused you were– I bet Harry doesn't know how much you were enjoying that!"

"No, no, no!" Draco wailed, writhing as if he was under the Cruciatus curse.

"_Silencio!_" Dumbledore shouted, with more vehemence than Harry had ever heard him use. Harry, enraged, moved to shout or do something more to the man as well, but Dumbledore put a hand out to him, and the older wizard's blazing eyes had as much a silencing effect on Harry as his spell had on Luicius. The eldest Malfoy, despite being forcefully silent, continued to struggle as Dumbledore began placing binds on him in preparation of sending him back to Azkaban.

Draco shook helplessly in Harry's arms, pleading with his lover, "I wasn't, Harry, I swear, I didn't–

"Hush," Harry murmured, sheer rage making it hard to focus on comforting the other boy; he wanted to _rip _Lucius Malfoy limb from limb. The way Draco was shuddering brought him back down, though, and he quickly soothed, "I believe you, baby. Shh, it's alright."

"Get him out of here," Dumbledore ordered, a bit distractedly. "Severus could you take them?"

Snape, who Dumbledore had released from his bind just moments before, hurried to the boys' side. "Draco," he said, in a voice Harry had never heard before; it was filled with regret and emotion. "I should've been more on guard. I apologize–

"Do it later, Severus! He shouldn't be subjected to this any longer!" Dumbledore snapped, showing an unprecedented concern for the youngest Malfoy.

"Yes, sir," Snape said, voice snapping back to its usual coolness. He knelt down next to Draco and grabbed his arm to help him up. The boy panicked and wrenched out of his grip, crying out in fear.

"Merlin, be gentle with him!" Harry exclaimed angrily.

"I didn't realize–

"I don't _n-need_ anyone to be to be gentle with me!" Draco tried, but it wasn't at all convincing with the tears rolling down his flushed, terrified face, and with the way he was clinging to Harry with fingers more like claws in his shirt.

"I know, love, I know," Harry said quickly, reassuringly. He automatically wiped off the other boy's tears, careful not to touch the swollen knot forming on his cheek from a well-placed punch from his father, and wound a careful arm around the boy's waist. He helped his lover to his feet, leveling a glare at Snape when he attempted to join in, then asked softly, "Alright?"

Draco nodded, eyes downcast, shame thudding through him.

"Hey," Harry said, easily seeing it. He caught his chin and turned him until their eyes met. "None of this was your fault, okay? You've got nothing to be ashamed of."

"Can we just go, Harry? Please?" Draco rasped, voice nearly gone.

Harry sighed sadly, then nodded. He tucked a lock of blond hair behind his ear, moving forward as he did to place a gentle kiss on the boy's forehead.

Draco tensed, breathing hard, then gradually relaxed, taking comfort in the kind touch.

"Come now, let's get him to the Hospital Wing," Snape said in a low voice, averting his eyes from the sight.

Harry nodded, then, keeping a careful arm around Draco's waist just in case he needed help, began to make his way to the familiar Wing.

Draco moved with him, stumbling along as his wobbly legs struggled to keep him upright. The pain in his lower back and arse was nearly crippling, though, and he found himself leaning nearly all his weight on Harry as they moved.

After a few steps, he, against his better judgement, took one look behind him–

– and immediately wished he hadn't.

'You're dead' his father mouthed, as Dumbledore got him to his feet. His cold, demented eyes and crazed demeanor only compounded the threat.

Draco clenched his eyes shut, turned back around, and clung to Harry, shuddering from fear.

_I don't want to do this anymore. I don't want to deal with-with Lucius, with Voldemort, with Death Eaters, with Dark and Light_– _I just want to be done._

_I just want to be _done.

CONFRONTINGCALAMITY

Albus Dumbledore walked through the doors of the Great Hall, looking worn, eyes surprisingly cool as they stared at his student body, who went utterly silent at the sight of him and waited for him to speak.

"My students," he said after a long, pregnant pause, voice chillingly devoid of any of his usual cheer. "I would first like to inform you that Lucius Malfoy has been captured, and is on his way back to Azkaban as we speak."

The students felt the tension that told them it was not the time to applaud. Their professor still had more to say.

"Secondly," Dumbledore continued, growing, if possible, even more somber. "I would simply like to point out something, if I may, that you all should consider. Many of you have grown up in healthy, happy families. Many of you have parents who love you and would do anything for you. And yet, many of you take this blessing for granted. You do not realize how lucky you are.

I have watched a great number of you for the past few months treat certain students with hatred and violence, Draco Malfoy being one of them. Perhaps I am crossing a line, but I must reveal that I have just witnessed some of the horrors he has had to face in his lifetime, and I can assure you that you are all very fortunate in comparison.

Therefore I must ask that you show some compassion to him and anyone else who may not be as fortunate as you. We all are not blessed with perfect families that love us unconditionally. He may not have always acted with kindness, but he has suffered a great deal, and thus I urge you to stop such petty behavior. I implore you all to help him, to support him, and to make him feel that he is not alone. At Hogwarts, we are each other's family, and I expect you all to treat each other as such."

Dumbledore looked around at the shocked, guilty faces in front of him, and gave a small bow. "That is all. You are free to leave the Hall."

And, even after Dumbledore turned and left, it was a long time before anyone moved to follow.

-------------------

**AN:** I know I was really awful to Draco, but don't worry-- things will get better for him. I hope it wasn't too disturbing for you readers, and that you stick with the story. Thanks so much for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful New Years.

Lots of love,

CSTSS


	5. Decisions

**AN:** Sorry it's been a while. Break's over, so there's not much time to write anymore :( I'm trying my best, though, so hopefully updates won't be too slow! Anyway, this chapter's a lot of fluff (to make up for all the stuff I put you guys through last time haha) so I hope you enjoy it. Thanks to everyone who's read and reviewed!

**Pairings: **Harry/Draco, Blaise/Seamus

**Warnings:** kissing, cursing

**Disclaimer:** Not mine.

* * *

"Can I get you anything?" Harry asked softly, standing at the foot of Draco's hospital bed. The other boy was laying on his side, staring out listlessly, face chalk white and sickly looking in the poor lighting. At Harry's question, he merely shook his head, not making any move to speak.

Harry bit his lip, wanting desperately to help but not knowing how. Draco hadn't spoken since they'd brought him in, and Harry was getting very concerned. Even when he'd been healed, he'd merely lay there like a battered doll, not even flinching as Madame Pomfrey had healed the bruises littering his hips, his throat, his beaten face, even the more private injuries in the lower half of his body. It was almost more heartbreaking– this devastated silence– than his crying into Harry's chest had been at the site of the horrible incident. Harry felt utterly helpless.

"Mr. Potter?" asked the oddly quiet, familiar voice of Madame Pomfrey. "Could I talk to you for a moment?"

Harry sighed, not wanting to leave him. "Will it take long?"

She shook her head. "No. He'll be fine with Severus here."

_Just like he was fine with him before? _Harry thought bitterly, but he bit back the retort and murmured, "Alright."

He followed Madame Pomfrey to her small office, where she gestured for him to sit.

"I wanted to speak with you about Mr. Malfoy," she said, a bit grimly.

Harry nodded. "I figured."

"First thing's first, has he discussed with you what happened with his cousin a few months ago?" she asked.

_She gets right to the point, _Harry thought ruefully. "He doesn't like to talk about it," he admitted.

"Well then, for the sake of his future health, I'm going to have to breach confidentiality and tell you myself."

"He would want to be the one to tell me," Harry protested, but it was weak; he desperately wanted to know what had been hurting his lover for so long.

"I'm sure he would, but I'm certain he'll appreciate the gesture when you become more...educated...about what is going on with him," she said bluntly. "Now, this is a bit of speculation on my part, but I'm quite sure that it's an accurate theory based on my observations."

Harry nodded, leaning forward in grim anticipation.

"Theodore Malfoy, when he was brought into this Hospital Wing, had suffered horrendous injury, much like his cousin. He did, however, have particular injuries that indicated something even more horrible had happened to him than solely physical abuse." She took a breath, showing a rare moment of emotion. "There was evidence all over his body that he'd been... raped."

Harry's heart lodged in his throat. His mouth worked for a moment as he tried to comprehend what he'd just heard. "But–but he was so–

"Young, yes," she finished sadly. "Unfortunately, that is the harsh truth." She took a breath, then continued briskly, "Now, as for Draco Malfoy's role in this, that is where the speculation lies. During his recovery, Theo often had nightmares. In his sleep, he'd talk about Draco. He most often would ask him why he was crying. Draco, as you well know, had nightmares as well. He would almost always beg someone 'don't hurt him' and would cry out Theo's name. My conclusion in all this is that...perhaps Draco was forced to watch what happened to his cousin."

Harry swallowed thickly, feeling a lump grow in his throat. It was all so...horrifying. "T-that's...that's awful," he rasped.

She nodded gravely. "Now, you may be wondering what this all has to do with you," she eventually continued, voice regaining its coolness. "I have a bit of a personal question for you."

He nodded. "Okay."

"How has intimacy been for you two since that incident?"

Harry blinked, flabbergasted, then felt his face explode in a blush. "Er," he stuttered.

"I'm not trying to embarrass you, Mr. Potter," Madame Pomfrey said calmly. "Just answer the question as best as you can."

Harry took a breath, and thought back to the past few months; how closed off his lover had been. He'd always been a bit quiet in bed, but he'd taken it to a new level lately...and he'd never allow Harry to see his face, either. He'd always insist they have sex facing away from each other, which had baffled Harry, but he'd agreed after the other boy had nearly thrown a fit about it. Then he thought over the other day, when he'd heard that whimper, and had turned around to see Draco looking sickly and shaking... had he really not noticed all of this? Made any sort of connection?

Hanging his head, Harry muttered, "It hasn't been good. He hasn't really been that into it."

"It's not your fault. He can't suppress his memories," she explained. She exhaled, then said, "I was given proof for all this the other day, when Severus came in asking about memory potions for Draco. Apparently he came to Severus and was upset he was going to lose you if he didn't fix his issues with intimacy."

There was a small moment of silence.

Harry felt like an arse.

"I wish he'd just told me he'd been feeling like that," he murmured, shaking his head sadly. "I would've tried to help him through it, instead of just...just going on like nothing was wrong."

"You still have time to fix those mistakes, Mr. Potter," she said, surprisingly gently. "That is why I wanted to speak to you today. Now that Mr. Malfoy himself has gone through something similar to what Theo did, he's going to be even more skittish towards intimacy, which is something you need to be prepared for."

Harry nodded, taking her very seriously. "Please tell me what I can do to help him."

"Everyone is different, Harry. I've unfortunately had quite a few students who have gone through the trauma of sexual abuse, and none of them react the same. As his partner, you simply have to learn as you go: learn what triggers him, what makes him feel safe, what things will help bring him down from a panic attack– it will take a lot of work on your part."

"I'll do everything I need to," Harry said immediately.

"Good," she replied. "Just be very careful with him. Don't push him into intimacy. Be more aware of how he's feeling. These are all things you can do to help him through what he's just experienced."

"Okay," Harry agreed, taking it all in. He cleared his throat, then asked, a bit shyly, "Do you mind if I come to you sometimes? If I mess up, or if I just need to–

"Of course," she replied, giving him a genuine smile. "I know Mr. Malfoy hasn't always been kind to me, or to anyone for that matter, but he's gone through a lot. I'm glad he has someone like you to help him."

"Thanks." Harry smiled, a tinge of sadness still lingering. "I just hope I can."

CONFRONTINGCALAMITY

"Malfoy's been caught," Seamus said happily as he opened the curtain to his lover's bed. "So you don't–

He abruptly stopped, seeing Pansy beside Blaise, clutching his hand.

"O-oh, sorry," he automatically stuttered, stepping backwards, feeling white hot anger flood through him at the sight of them together.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Pansy demanded, squinty eyes glaring at him from under her fall of greasy hair. Her arms went possessively around her boyfriend's neck. "He doesn't need any stress."

"I-I, um," Seamus swallowed thickly, mind rapidly turning to come up with a viable excuse through the anger. "Well, you see..." He abruptly grabbed hold of the idea, "Professor Dumbledore told me to tell Zabini here the news that Lucius Malfoy is no longer in the castle. He can rest without fear tonight."

Pansy blinked, surprised at his politeness. "Well, thank you," she replied, turning to Blaise and running her hand down his chest in what she must've thought was a soothing way. "See, sweetheart? I told you everything would be okay," she cooed.

Seamus saw the way his lover winced in pain at the touch, and felt familiar rage bubble up in his throat.

After a moment, Pansy seemed to realize he was still there, and turned back around to snap, "Is that all?"

"Uh, yeah," Seamus said, eyes on Blaise, who didn't look at him. "Sorry to intrude." He swallowed a little, not wanting to leave just yet. "Wait, he also, um, wanted to know how Bl–Mr. Zabini was feeling."

Pansy's eyes narrowed. "He's fine, now that I'm here." She leaned forward and kissed him, curling a hand around his head and rubbing at the back of his neck. Blaise responded in kind, kissing her back with a warmth that had Seamus reeling.

"I'll–I'll just go, then," he whispered, hurriedly backing away. His heart throbbed as he very near ran out of the Hospital Wing, and, for the first time in months, he felt the urge to rip open his skin.

"Seamus," Harry called, jogging up to him as he passed.

"I'm busy, Harry," Seamus snapped, staring straight ahead as he continued to stalk towards the doors. "I have to go."

"Hey," Harry said softly, grabbing at his arm and making him stop. "Are you okay?"

"I'm_ fine_," the irate Irish boy sniped. "Just leave me alone."

Harry's eyebrows furrowed. "Just...just come find me if you decide you need to talk, okay?" he finally said, instincts telling him something was definitely off with his friend.

"I'm not going to off myself, Harry," Seamus nearly growled. "Stay out of my business."

"Sorry," Harry grunted, eyes going hard, "But I'm still your friend, regardless of how much of an arse you can be. I'm going to look out for you no matter how hard you push me away."

Seamus felt guilt thud through him. "H-Harry..."

"I've got to get back to Draco," Harry said coolly. "See you later."

He left, and Seamus stared after him, feeling lower than dirt.

_I don't blame Blaise for not wanting me, _he thought, clenching his hands into fists so hard he felt the fleshy skin of his palm split under the pressure.

_He _does_ want you, _a small voice in his head reminded. _You're just too much of a coward to let him make the relationship public, remember?_

Seamus began walking faster, desperate to get to somewhere where he could just break down in private.

_Would he even want to? That kiss seemed pretty mutual, _yet another voice spoke up, making Seamus wince, the memory grating on his heart. _Maybe that whole coming out episode was all a ruse, and he never planned on going through with it in the first place. He wants to be with her– you're just his bit on the side._

"Shut up," he whispered, climbing the stairs to the Common Room two at a time until finally he was nearing his room. As he got closer, he felt himself start to spiral out of control. This was how it always got right before he succumbed to the urge to hurt himself; his emotions would go haywire and wouldn't settle until he felt the coolness of the blade sinking into his skin. It brought a calmness that these days only Blaise's touch could match.

The thought of it made Seamus' heart ache even more.

He threw open the door to his room, thanking Merlin when he saw that none of his roommates were in, and ran to his bed, reaching under his pillow for the pocket knife he always kept there. He had a tiny moment of hesitation-- during which he thought back to his promise to Blaise that he'd never hurt himself again-- and then the surge of white hot emotion overtook him and he pressed the blade in over and over until his skin was ravaged and bleeding. Unbidden, bitter tears rose and rolled down his cheeks in two steady rivulets, dropping into the deep cuts as he made them.

Gradually, he felt himself begin to calm, felt the haze of exhaustion and tranquility fall over him like a warm, familiar blanket, as it always did after one of these sessions. He eventually pulled the knife away, breathing hard, feeling hot and sickly but more stable, at least.

Getting up, he wandered over to the bathroom and began the long task of cleaning himself up. First, he washed his knife, careful to get every speck of blood off of the metal. Then, he washed his arm, wincing at the sharp sting of it. He'd cut a lot more than expected; his forearm was absolutely covered with deep lacerations, and he was careful to clean them each, wary of infection. Finally, he bandaged them up, making a mental note to put a glamour on them later (it wouldn't do to have anyone see what he'd done.) He could've simply healed them, sure, but for some bizarre reason, he hated doing that. He loved to feel the twinge of pain every time he moved his arm– it constantly helped him calm anytime his emotions got out of control.

He sighed, trudging back to his bed and collapsing on top of it, feeling spent. Both blood loss and emotional upheaval had left him exhausted, and he was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

For the next few hours, he dreamt of Blaise.

CONFRONTINGCALAMITY

"Hey," Harry greeted, pushing the bizarre confrontation he'd just had with Seamus out of his mind and focusing on his lover, who lay as still and sickly-looking as he had for the past few hours. "How are you feeling?"

"How do you think?" Draco asked, voice hoarse from screaming. He was sitting up, staring out the window on his right. Despite the paleness and the swollen eyes, he looked as beautiful as ever, and Harry wished he could touch him without feeling guilty for the thought.

"Stupid question," Harry whispered, feeling a bit useless. Even after his conversation with Madame Pomfrey, he felt confused, and had no idea how to go about relearning this version of his lover. Would he never be able to touch him again? Would it always be like this? Had their relationship changed for good?

Draco's eyes flitted over to him, but he didn't see them, so busy was he staring helplessly at his shoes.

"Harry," he said quietly. The other boy looked up, big green eyes looking wide and uncertain. "I'm not going to break. Just...come here. Please."

It was as if a weight had been lifted.

Harry exhaled, feeling relief fill him. He went to him, sitting on the edge of the bed and reaching out to tuck the blond hair behind one petal soft ear. Then his fingers drifted to caress the smooth skin of the blond's jaw, ghosting over the spot where what must've been a brutal punch from his father had landed just hours before.

_God, I should've protected him from this._

His eyes must've tightened in self-berating, because Draco murmured, "It's okay, you know. You couldn't have known what was going to happen."

Harry looked down, hand dropping to land in his lap, where it twisted anxiously with its counterpart. "I had a bad feeling the second you walked out of the Great Hall. I should've thought like Seamus and found a way to come with you."

Draco shook his head, reaching out to gently lift his chin. "I wouldn't have wanted you to do that. And I'm sure Blaise gave Finnegan an earful for doing something so ridiculous."

"Mm, still," Harry mumbled, reveling in the feel of the boy's touch; it seemed like it had been forever since he'd initiated any form of physical contact. He closed his eyes and leaned forward until his forehead was resting against the boy's shoulder and he could breathe in his lover's familiar scent. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you from this," he whispered, feeling his throat give a poignant, unexpected throb. "I wish I'd been able to keep this all from happening."

Draco tensed at first, but then wrapped an arm around Harry and tenderly kissed the top of his head. "You can't protect everyone, Harry," he said softly. "These things happen."

Harry lifted his head and met the other's eyes. "Don't say it like that," he said seriously. "As if it was just another thing that happened. What you went through was–

"Unexpected and revolting, but not crippling," Draco finished, purposefully averting his eyes from the fierce green ones in front of him. After a tense moment, he sighed a little, letting his mask drop in front of the one person he could trust the most, and turned back to face him. "Look, I can't–I can't let this destroy me, Harry," he whispered, feeling distinctly vulnerable. "I won't."

Harry turned the sallow but beautiful face back to him. "Baby, acknowledging it isn't the same thing as letting it destroy you," he murmured, stroking his jaw. "Besides, you have me. It's not like I'm not going to help you through this."

Draco's face softened a little, and he finally nodded, conceding to the point. They were silent for a moment. "I...I like it when you call me that," he said belatedly, then turned a bit pink, as if he hadn't expected to admit it.

Harry smiled, and he moved his hand down to cup the boy's neck, ghosting his fingers warmly over the soft skin. "Do you?" he asked, bemused.

Draco shrugged, trying to brush it off. "Makes me feel safe," he muttered. "I remember you calling me it during my knee surgery."

"Not exactly the best of memories to have," Harry admitted, but he was pleased nonetheless. "Anyway...please just think about it. I don't want you to feel like you can't talk about it, because you think it's not a big deal or whatever. I'm here for you, when you need to–

"Harry," Draco interrupted, sounding a bit exasperated. "I'm not a woman. I don't need to vent about it, and I don't need you treating me like I'm going to break in two if you get near me. It happened, I acknowledge the fact that it was horrible, but I'm putting it behind me. Okay?"

Harry's eyes were fierce and stern. "Any person would be shaken after that, no matter their gender," he countered. "And any person wouldn't be able to 'put it behind them' a few hours afterwards, either."

"Well I'm not just 'any person' then," Draco snapped, but with the emotional exhaustion eclipsing any haughtiness that could've been there, it wasn't nearly as effective.

"I'm not asking you to cry or tell me all the details or anything like that," Harry said, voice growing pleading, still stroking his neck. "I just...all I can think about is the look on your face when I got to you, Draco. You were so _terrified. _It was like you'd been broken and I had no idea if I could even find the pieces, let alone piece them back together. And now you're acting like everything's fine when I know it's not and...fuck, Draco, I just want you to be okay. I just want you to be _okay._"

Draco's eyes closed, and he took a shaky breath. "I'm trying to be," he whispered hoarsely. "But you keep bringing it up, and now it's in my head. He's in my head, and I can't..."

He shuddered, let out an odd, anguished sort of whimper, then slumped, breathing growing rapid. His hands lifted to cover his face, trying to hide his distress.

"Oh, Draco," Harry sighed softly, bringing him into his chest and beginning to stroke his trembling back. "Come here, it's okay."

Draco said nothing, merely clutched onto Harry's shirt, a desperate sort of tremor to his hold. Tears rose behind his eyes despite his best efforts.

After a moment, Harry, needing to be closer to him, maneuvered himself so that he was sitting against the headboard of the bed and Draco was laying in between his legs, curled up against his chest with his head resting just underneath Harry's chin. Draco allowed himself to be moved, only wanting to be in contact with Harry; nothing else mattered.

"You have every right to be upset," Harry murmured, running his fingers soothingly through the other's hair. "I'm not judging you. You know that, right?"

Draco wiped at his face in disgust. "You may not be, but I certainly am," he muttered hatefully. "Look at me. I'm–

"Fucking gorgeous inside and out, and I don't want to hear anything else about it," Harry finished for him. "So shut up and give yourself some slack already."

Draco blinked. Then he lifted his head, and gave Harry a kiss, light and grateful. He laid back down, snuggling close. He was silent after that.

Harry pressed his lips against the blond hair and murmured, "I love you. So much."

Draco's heart swelled, and he abruptly remembered the 'plan' he was supposed to have gone through with by now (breaking up with Harry) and knew they'd have to come up with a different one. He simply couldn't bear the thought of being without him.

"And I, you," he whispered, before succumbing to the exhaustion tugging at his veins.

CONFRONTINGCALAMITY

Snape, standing just outside, had heard everything, and could tell immediately that Draco had no intention of fulfilling his role in the new plan. Despite his sympathy for the young boy over what he'd gone through, he could not condone him ruining what could end up being a very good chance at the Light side winning the war.

In short: if Draco would not break up with Potter under his own will, Snape would simply have to step in and assist him.

CONFRONTINGCALAMITY

Blaise could not sleep.

All he'd done for the past few hours was think of Seamus, tossing over that angry, hurt expression over and over in his head until his temples had begun to ache. He hated the fact that he'd had to put on the act with Pansy in front of him, but it couldn't be helped.

If Seamus wasn't willing to come out, Blaise had no reason to give his parents for splitting with Pansy. Simply not liking her would have no affect– for arranged marriages were characterized by this very concept; preserving the pure-blood line was above all else– and all they would say to that excuse would be, he didn't have to like her. They'd continue to make him date her despite any ill feelings between them.

What _would _change their minds would be telling them about his relationship with Seamus– but the other boy was adamant against that option.

_That wouldn't just change their minds, Blaise– they'd disown you, _his mind pointed out brutally. _And cut the bullshit. Just be honest with yourself– you love him, but you're not going to get yourself disowned for it. Admit it. You're glad that he doesn't want to come out, and you're glad you didn't go through with that stupid idea in the first place._

Blaise sighed, wincing at the pain that raced through his stomach as a result. "Still," he murmured to himself, "I don't like what this is doing to him. To both of us."

"Talking to yourself?" asked a familiar Irish brogue, preceding his lover's lithe form as it slipped through the curtain surrounding his bed.

"Hey," Blaise said, a soft smile spreading unbidden onto his face. He ran his eyes over the other boy, seeing the exhaustion there, the lingering hurt. His face was ashen white, and his eyes were shuttered, guarded in their pain. "Seamus, listen..."

"When did she leave?" Seamus interrupted, still not moving to come any closer. "Did you give her a nice long kiss goodbye?"

"Seam," Blaise sighed. He sat up, grimacing at the pain, and beckoned the boy to come closer. "Please just come here."

Seamus grit his teeth, but stepped forward, fists clenching at his sides. His throat throbbed, entirely unnecessarily.

"I hurt you," Blaise stated, touching the knuckles closest to him in apology.

Seamus said nothing, merely swallowed and stared down at the bed sheets.

"I'm sorry for that," he continued, rubbing the smooth skin soothingly. "I know it must be hard for you to see her and I together. I know if I saw you with someone else, it would make my blood boil...but it's just the way it is right now. If I could change it–

"I want us to come out," Seamus suddenly interrupted.

"_What?_" Blaise hissed.

Seamus looked up at him, and Blaise felt his heart crack at the liquid sheen over his eyes. "It kills me to see you with her," he said, very softly, as if his voice wouldn't hold up if he tried to say it any louder. "More than any consequences from coming out ever could. I realize that now."

Blaise couldn't believe what he was hearing. _The second I decide I'm happy he wants to stay a closet case, he decides he wants to come out? Just bloody brilliant._

Seamus must've seen the shift in his expression, because his face suddenly tightened. "Oh, Merlin," he said, mortified, starting to back away. "Y-you–you want _her_. I'm just–I'm just your–

"Woah, woah, Seamus," Blaise tried, rapidly realizing what puzzle his lover had suddenly put together in his head. "Whatever you're thinking, stop. You're wrong."

Seamus shook his head, frantic with shock and disbelief. "N-no, I understand now. You never really–really wanted me to come out. You wanted to be with her all along. O-oh, God..."

"Seamus, stop!" Blaise exclaimed, reaching for him. Pain galloped through him and he let out a sharp cry, but managed to gasp out, "Please, beauty, come here and let me explain."

Seamus' eyes went unfocused, and Blaise saw his hands go for his sleeves, where they dove under the fabric and scratched ruthlessly at the innocent skin underneath.

"Stop, Seamus, _please,_" Blaise pleaded, wishing his body was recovered enough that he could go to him. "Please don't do that. Just listen to me. Pansy means _nothing. _I'm with her to make my parents happy, that's _all._"

"Y-you wanted to come out, with Harry and Malfoy," Seamus whispered, still raking his fingers over the split skin on his forearm. "Was that just a ruse? D-did you ever even plan to go through with it?"

"Yes, of course I did," Blaise said vehemently. "But that was before...before I thought about it, Seam. Think about it, love. What good would it do for me to get disowned by my parents? What good would it do for you to be shunned by your family and friends? Why not just keep it the way it is?"

"Because it hurts!" Seamus cried, finally turning around and meeting his eyes. He slowly pulled up his sleeve, and revealed butchered, bleeding skin. "It _hurts me,_ Blaise."

Blaise put a hand over his mouth, feeling sick. _Oh god, Seamus._

"Y-you did that–you did that because of me?" he whispered. "Because of what you saw?"

Seamus nodded, staring at his arm, bloody fingers moving to scratch over it on their own accord.

"Stop! Don't make it worse, baby, please," Blaise begged, reaching for him helplessly. "Come here. Please."

To his surprise, Seamus stepped closer, reaching his clean fingers out to gently press Blaise back down to the mattress. "You're hurting yourself too, trying to move like that," he murmured, stroking the boy's sweaty forehead, the pain written all over his elegant face. "I'm not worth that kind of stress."

That was it. Blaise grabbed him by the wrist and yanked him down; he toppled over and landed with an agonizing impact on Blaise's injured body, but the Slytherin paid no attention to it. "Seamus, I _love _you," he said fiercely into the shocked face of his lover, hovering just above his own. "You doing these things to yourself is going to stress me out, whether you like it or not."

"Blaise, I'm hurting you," Seamus muttered, trying to pry out of his grip.

"Not nearly as much as I've hurt you," Blaise countered, holding him still. "And that's going to stop, right now. Fuck my parents– losing them is nothing compared to doing this to you."

Seamus stared at him, eyes shocked and hurt and loving and beautiful all at once.

Then he deflated, collapsing against the boy's chest in relief. In a small voice, he asked, "Would they...would they really disown you?"

Blaise swallowed, and found Seamus' roaming hand with his own, intertwining them. "It wouldn't surprise me."

Seamus sighed, adjusting his head on his lover's chest, wanting to hear his heartbeat. "And you'd be willing to risk that, just to make me happy?"

Blaise didn't answer immediately. Instead, he picked up Seamus' bloody, torn arm, and said, "I never want to be the cause of this. Never again, Seamus. If that means having a fall out with my parents, then so be it."

Seamus kissed him.

It was heady, and passionate, and Blaise knew immediately that he'd just made the best decision of his life.

_He's my priority. No one else._

The next day, he and Seamus were going to come out. And then, he was going to go to Dumbledore, and tell him of his switch in allegiance.

His arm was still clean, and now his soul could stay the same.

-------------------

**AN:** Yay for happiness and fluff. I'm hoping to get the next update out in a week or so. Things are really busy right now, so it may be a bit longer than usual. Hope you guys still stay with it, though!

Thanks for reading, and feel free to leave a review.

Much love,

CSTSS


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